


less of a dream and more of a fantasy

by misato



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Anal Sex, Banter, Blow Jobs, Fluff and Smut, Grindr, Hook-Up, M/M, Safe Sane and Consensual
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-26
Updated: 2018-08-26
Packaged: 2019-07-02 19:18:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,282
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15802923
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/misato/pseuds/misato
Summary: Draco: Never thought I’d see the Chosen One on here. Nice pseudonym though. You realise it sounds like you’re desperate to get shagged, right?Harry typed back furiously.Seeker: who says i’m not?





	less of a dream and more of a fantasy

The three of them were sitting on the dilapidated couch in Harry’s living room, arguing like it was their fourth year all over again. Hermione looked very glad to not be in the middle of it this time.

“No, Harry!” Ron said. “I’ve heard it’s haunted.”

“You mean his flat?”

“No, his arse,” Ron scoffed. “Of course I mean his flat!”

“It’s not,” Harry rolled his eyes and looked back down at his cell phone.

Some thought it was a mistake that the Wizarding world had mixed themselves up with technology. Harry disagreed. To hell with hippogriffs and moving photographs -- he had single gay men at his fingertips, and  _ all  _ of them wanted to hook up.

Hopefully, this included Draco Malfoy.

“You’re right,” Ron said angrily, jarring Harry from the shirtless picture of the blond. “It’s  _ Malfoy’s _ place. As if a ghost would want to haunt him.”

Hermione looked at Ron disapprovingly as he continued.

“Of all people, why would you want to chat him up?” 

“He’s not half bad looking,” Harry mumbled.

“Not half bad looking is what I call four-day-old shrimp fried rice, Harry. Not  _ Draco Malfoy _ .”

“He’s stunning, okay?” 

Harry held up his phone to prove it. Ron snatched it and squinted at Malfoy’s Grindr profile for a few good seconds.

“What’s a verse bottom?” Ron asked loudly, and Hermione cleared her throat very pointedly.

“Give that back,” Harry said, reaching for it.

“Ron, really-” Hermione piped up.

“There’s plenty of Wizarding gay bars,” Ron said, holding his phone out of reach. “If you want to stick your cock in something that isn’t Death Eater shaped, I can give you multiple addresses.”

“He was only going to message him,” Hermione said.

She liked to be fair.

“I was  _ only  _ going to message him!” Harry repeated.

A familiar notification came from his phone.

“Too late,” Ron said, his eyes bugging wide with shock. “He’s already messaged you.”

Harry grabbed his phone back. Ron didn’t protest this time.

_ Draco: Never thought I’d see the Chosen One on here. Nice pseudonym though. You realise it sounds like you’re desperate to get shagged, right? _

Harry typed back furiously.

_ Seeker: who says i’m not? _

Ron tried to peek over his shoulder to read, but Hermione whacked him with a pillow.

“Don’t read what he’s typing. He’s probably sexting him anyway.”

“Am not,” Harry said, and turned back to the message that Draco had just sent.

_ Draco: My place? I’m up for it if you are. _

Looking at the flush that rose in Harry’s cheeks, an expression of amusement and then horror grew on Ron’s face.

“Are too! He said yes!”

“He offered,” Harry said smugly.

“Are you going to go?” Hermione said. 

“You’re not going to go  _ now _ , are you?” Ron said.

“Don’t get all excited,” Harry said. “But, yeah, I think I will.”

“Alright, fine,” Ron said in defeat, and then as an afterthought: “Don’t let the ghosties bite.”

 

***

 

Harry Apparated on Draco’s doormat in a dress shirt and his nicest pair of khakis. He wasn’t sure if he should knock or not.

He decided on it anyway and rapped on the door loudly.

“Merlin,” he heard Draco swear from inside, and then there were footsteps. “Quiet, you’ll wake the whole building.”

The door swung open and Harry suddenly felt very overdressed.

He’d never thought he’d see Draco in boxers and a T-shirt, but he wasn’t sorry now that he had. His hair was damp, but falling into his face. He smelled like nice shampoo and Harry wanted to kiss him very badly.

“What, are we going out or something?” he said, and upon reading the look on Harry’s face, he laughed under his breath. “You dressed up for me.”

“This is how I always dress,” Harry lied.

“Cute,” Draco said. “Very cute, Potter.”

“Shut up.”

“Come inside. I can’t suck you off in the hallway.”

Harry moved inside and Draco shut the door.

“You’re planning on-”

“Well, I guess you were planning on taking me to dinner and a show first, but I’m currently a little more interested in  _ that _ .”

“What?” Harry said cluelessly.

Draco smiled and flicked his gaze to Harry’s crotch then looked back up, his gaze like fire.

“ _ That _ .”

He was half hard by the time Draco sunk to the ground.

He slid his hands up Harry’s waist, cold fingers whispering beneath his shirt and moving over his hips and stomach and teasing at the band of his underwear. 

“Off,” he murmured.

“Here?”

“You think I can wait?” Draco asked. “I’ve been hard since I opened the door and saw you in that stupid outfit.”

“‘S not stupid,” Harry complained.

“Off.”

It wasn’t much of a request that time.

Harry stripped off his khakis as quickly as he could. He tripped over his pant leg and Draco snorted.

“You’re beautiful. Stupidly beautiful,” he said, and suddenly his arms were trapping Harry against the door.

He mouthed over his bulge hungrily, dampening the front of his underwear.

Harry was starting to worry that his knees would give out.

“You got a condom, love?” Draco mumbled, the vibrations from his lips humming against Harry’s cock through the fabric.

“Yeah,” Harry said, his mind momentarily going blank from the pet name that had fallen from Draco’s lips so casually.

After a good bit of nervous fumbling,  he produced one from his pocket.

“May I?” Draco said, fingers playing at his waist, and Harry nodded.

He tugged Harry’s underwear down and pulled out his cock.

“ _ Salazar _ ,” Draco whispered, almost reverently. “Don’t come, okay? I want you inside me later.”

Harry was achingly hard, and by the time he had rolled on the condom, he was grinding shamelessly against Draco’s hand.

“Be patient,” the blond muttered, and he started kissing and biting at Harry’s thighs, which didn’t really help with the whole impatience thing. 

Then he looked up at Harry through pale eyelashes.

“Can I mark you?”

Harry nodded wantonly, and then Draco sucked hard on his inner thigh.

A dark bruise formed on the pale skin there and Harry moaned softly.

“You sound even better than I dreamed you would,” Draco said hoarsely, and Harry raised his eyebrows.

“You dreamed-”

“I’ll tell you later,” Draco said quickly, and then he traced his tongue from the corner of Harry’s thigh to the tip of his cock and Harry forgot what they had been talking about in the first place.

“Just go on and…” Harry trailed off.

Draco rocked back on his heels and smiled cheekily.

“And what?”

“Don’t tease,” Harry whined.

“What, you wanna be in charge? Is that it?” 

“Just-”

“You wanna fuck my mouth, Potter?” he purred.

Harry’s mouth went dry.

“You’ve wanted it for a while now, huh? Since what, sixth year?”

“Fifth,” he heard himself say, and Draco laughed softly.

“Is that right?”

His mouth was back, pressing kisses along the inner side of Harry’s thigh. 

“The good boy savior wants to fuck the big bad out of me?”

And that shouldn’t have been hot, but Harry whimpered.

“Is that what  _ you  _ want?” Harry said.

“Why do you think I asked you over?” Draco said.

Harry let out a shaky breath.

“Just shove your cock in my mouth before I go insane.”

His lips were so close, so wet and soft. Harry  _ wanted _ . And oh, he  _ took _ .

Malfoy’s hair was even silkier than he thought it would be. That was his first thought as he thrust into his mouth. He ran his fingers through it luxuriously and Draco tapped on his thigh twice, making brief eye contact.

Harry let go and he pulled off, his lips wet and pouty.

“Pull,” Draco coughed, his voice rough.

“Pull what?”

“My  _ hair _ , love,” he said insistently, and Harry nodded dazedly.

He had said love again, like they were a real couple, and not two stupid ex-enemies-but-not-quite-friends who had found each other on a dating app mere hours ago.

He pulled hard and Draco moaned and dove back down on his cock with enthusiasm.

He was good at sucking cock. Born for it, really. It was only a short while before Harry was close, and he gasped and pushed Draco away.

“Too close,” he muttered. “Didn’t want to come.”

“Good,” Draco said.

He stood. Harry could see that he was hard beneath his boxers.

“You wanna fuck me now?”

He looked an absolute mess; his hair tangled and his mouth reddened, desperate for more.

“Yeah,” Harry said. “Bed?”

“I do have one,” Draco said breathlessly.

He did.

It was barely big enough for two, but with Draco sitting on his lap, grinding back onto him, he decided that they fit just fine.

“Please,” Draco murmured.

“What is it?” 

“Fuck me.”

He said it like an order.

“Say it politely,” Harry whispered, his words ghosting over Draco’s ear.

He bit at his earlobe and trailed down over his neck. Draco gasped.

“Your  _ tongue _ , Potter,  _ Merlin _ .”

“Later. What do you want now?”

“Your cock.”

“Where?”

“Inside, Potter, inside, please,” his voice broke, whining and grinding against Harry through the fabric of his boxers.

“You haven’t called me by my first name this whole time,” Harry laughed quietly. “We’re not eleven years old anymore.”

“Harry!” Draco sputtered. “Stop teasing. I said it, alright. Harry,  _ please  _ fuck me into the sheets.”

And he was more than happy to oblige.

It took a little stretching and a lubrication spell or two, but Draco was tight and perfect. Harry slid his hands under Draco’s T-shirt and thumbed over his nipples. He squirmed on Harry’s cock and rutted back against him.

“Sensitive?”

“Obviously,” Draco hissed.

“What about here?” Harry asked, and wrapped one hand around Draco’s cock.

He hadn’t been touched the entire time that Harry had been there, and he moaned desperately. Harry stroked him a few times, and it wasn’t long before  Draco clenched up and came in thick spurts over the sheets.

“Shit,” Draco muttered, and then, eyes flashing with that same fire from before, “Keep going.”

“Are you sure?”

“Wouldn’t have asked if I wasn’t.”

Harry tore the dirty sheets from the bed, tossing them aside, and thrust harder. Draco whimpered, his breath knocked from his body.

“Fuck, Harry, fuck, it’s so much.”

“Too much?”

“No,” Draco said. “Harder.”

Harry wrapped his arms around Draco and flipped him over as carefully as he could -- a mock roughness -- and pushed him against the bed, pounding into him recklessly.

Draco was an overstimulated mess, gasping as his spent cock rubbed against the bare mattress. He was barely speaking coherently anymore, only fragmented pieces of words mixed with loud, enthusiastic moans.

Someone banged on the wall and Harry instinctively clapped a hand over Draco’s mouth to quiet him. He could feel ragged breaths against his palm. Draco turned and looked at him, docile, obedient.

“You’ll be good?” Harry asked, and the other man nodded.

Harry let go and Draco immediately pressed his face into the pillow and bit down, muffling the sounds that spilled from his lips and Harry thrust into him again.

“You’re perfect,” Harry whispered into his ear. “I don’t have to fuck the big bad out of you. You’re good all by yourself.”

And then he came, thighs trembling as he collapsed beside Draco, his cock slipping out.

They were quiet.

“I’m gonna go throw this out,” Harry said softly.

The condom, he meant.

When Harry came back, Draco was wrapped tightly in a blanket, sitting cross-legged and staring blankly at the wall.

“You okay?”

“Tired.”

“Sorry,” Harry said.

“For what?”

“I was too rough.”

Draco snorted.

“You were not. I’m tired, that’s all, really.”

Harry sat back on the bed quietly.

“I meant it, y’know.”

“Meant what?”

“You’re good all by yourself,” Harry said. “It’s true. You don’t need me or anyone else to save you. You’ve changed, Draco.”

“I know that,” Draco lied.

Harry wrapped his arms around him and pulled him close until their foreheads bumped together.

“Can I kiss you?”

Harry felt him nod, and then their lips pressed together, soft and exploring.

Then he remembered.

“What did you dream about?”

“What?”

“You said before,” Harry said, “that I sounded even better than you dreamed I would.”

“Oh,” he said, and then, “Less of a dream and more of a fantasy, really.”

Harry nodded, prompting him.

“I’ve loved you for a long time. It was a miracle I saw you on that stupid app. I’ve wanted this for ages, Harry.”

“Me too.”

“No, really. Look, I’m sorry about it all. The petty fighting and the Vo...the Dark Lord stuff, it was all terrible of me.”

“I forgive you,” Harry said, and meant it.

“Wanna stay over?”

“Yeah,” Harry said. “Yeah, of course.”

Draco kissed his cheek.

“Cuddling and Muggle TV?”

“Sounds vanilla,” Harry teased. “And nice.”

Draco was warm. They watched cooking shows for an hour or two, but Harry was paying more attention to the way he felt in his arms, the weight of his body against his chest, the smell of his hair. 

He fell asleep, his eyelashes pale half-moons against his cheeks, and Harry kissed the top of his head and let himself drift off.   
  


***

 

“Well, it wasn’t haunted.”

“Doubt it,” Ron said.

“We’re going to dinner and a movie on Saturday.”

“Dinner and a movie?” Hermione asked, trying not to laugh. “Draco does dinner dates now?”

She wasn’t really trying to be fair, this time.

“Yeah,” Harry grinned. 

“You’re stupidly in love with him, aren’t you?” she said.

“Maybe,” Harry said.

Ron attacked him with a pillow.

“Do I get to be the best man?”

“Ron, where did we get the flowers for the wedding again?”

“Shut up,” Harry said, but he was laughing. “It’s just a date.”


End file.
